Octopus in the Tub
by Laikusha
Summary: Sherlock brought home an octopus and gave John a hard-on. Yum. It's for humor. Rated to be safe. I don't own Sherlock and am not making money.


"SHERLOCK!" John shouted at the top of his lungs.

"What is it, John? You're waking the neighbors." Sherlock asked walking out of the kitchen to join his friend near the bathroom entrance.

"There is an octopus in the tub." John said, gripping the door knob tight enough for his knuckles to turn white as the creature raised a bloody tentacle and _waved_ at him.

"I can see that."

John turned toward Sherlock, his cocky tone was something he hated. He really, really hated the bastard's tone. The voice that told John he was a moron whenever he pointed out the obvious.

"Why is there an octopus in the tub?"

"I put it there, of course. John, who else would bring an octopus here if not you? Think a little more logically, man."

John was ready to explode. He grabbed Sherlock's arm in a tight grasp as the tall man turned to walk away.

"Let me ask you again. For what reason would you bring this octopus into our tub when we both need it to bathe?"

"John, the octopus needed water and Mrs. Hudson refused to allow me the use of her tub for out new roommate. It's temporary, I assure you, we'll be bathing soon enough. Let's go make some tea."

Sherlock pulled his arm from John's grip and returned to the kitchen. John stood in stunned silence for a moment before following his roommate, the one that wasn't spewing ink in the tub.

"Okay, Sherlock, what reason do you have for bringing an octopus home to put it in water?" John questioned, taking the tea cup from Sherlock. He took a sip of his tea, it tasted too bitter, but Sherlock almost never made tea. When he did, it never turned out quite right.

"The octopus is a witness and the answer to the solution of my case! I needed it to tell me it's knowledge!" he exclaimed as he took a seat on the couch, sipping at his tea.

John sighed sitting down in his chair. Sherlock was going to give him gray hair and a heart attack sometime in the near future, he just knew it. "Alright, how is this octopus a witness and the final piece to your puzzle. Please, be as specific as you can."

Sherlock's eyes glimmered with what could only be interpreted as a conniving look, before he put his tea cup down and leaned his arms on his knees.

"Well, I believe the murderer was a woman who seduced men. The woman I suspect is attractive neither physically or intellectually. Since she is seducing business men, you would think she was intelligent, but she's not. She does have a talent with some marine biology though, because of her late mother. I suspected her the moment I heard she took over her mother's aquarium, which had this octopus in it. This very octopus is known for having a chemical in it that, when ingested, acts as a _very_ strong aphrodisiac." Sherlock smirked, summing John up with his eyes.

"Judging from the uncomfortable shifting in your position and shakiness, I take it that the chemical is doing it's job?"

It took John a couple moments to digest what Sherlock has said, the hard-on that had popped out of nowhere was no help. It slapped him across the face as he dropped his cup.

"You didn't..." John got up in a fit of anger, regretting it almost instantly.

Sherlock stood and grinned ear to ear, "Then it's affects are confirmed. I have proof that she had used the chemical to bring her victims into an aroused state, since she was the only one with access to the octopus." Sherlock nearly skipped toward the entrance, grabbing his jacket and bolting out the door. Leaving John standing in the living room, aroused and pissed.

Moments later, the door opened and Sherlock stepped back in, "Since your room is still filthy from last week's explosion, you might want to make friends with our dear octopus friend." With a wink, he left again, slamming the door behind him.

John stood dumbfounded, what the hell was he supposed to do? His room was black and covered in ash, the bathroom had a freaking octopus (with freaking _tentacles_) in the tub, and there was no way in hell he was touching himself in the living room where Sherlock's insane brother had installed cameras a long time ago.

"Bollocks."

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><p><strong>Edit:<strong> I fixed some grammar and sentence structure mistakes, otherwise there wasn't much else I changed.

Thank you for reading.


End file.
